The International Games
by Little miss katniss
Summary: What if the Hunger Games wasn't Panem's idea? What if they were taken from the traditions of the 21st century? AU, OC. Main character is like a younger Katniss :P please read! : K , may change to T. Sorry for the dodgy formatting, I'm typing on an iPad and it won't let me do paragraphs! :S PLEASE REVIEW I WANT TO GET 5 REVIEWS BY TONIGHT :
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Prologue 22/10/12 Today was just a normal day. Hung out with my mates at school, flunked an algebra test, made cutting remarks to the posh nobs from the other side of town who think they're miles above us kids from the slums. I was happy at school, because the normality of it all kept me sane. However, as soon as I began my journey back home, I started to freak out. But those wasn't my normal type of freaking out. Normally, the same thoughts would be swirling round and round in my my head like a whirlpool "Is Alec" (my twin) "too hungry?", "Will I be able to hunt today?" or "Will the butcher be in a bad mood and refuse to buy my game?". No, this is a different type of worrying. And everyone else in the country between the ages of 12 and 18 will be thinking the exact same thoughts. Why? Tomorrow's reaping day. 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 23/10/12 We're part of the Empire. A combination of 12 countries ruled by a team of all-powerful control freaks, in a distant peaceful country called Brazil. I've never been to Brazil. In fact, I've never even crossed the borderline to Scotland. It's illegal, you see. Anybody who had the nerve to try would be beaten within an inch of their life by the newly established, violent police force. Interaction with any other part of the Empire is strictly forbidden. In History, we've been taught that there was once over 200 countries. But each and every one messed with the rulers of the Empire, and in turn got blown off the map. Lost forever. Never to be seen again. No one to help us slip free from this dismal noose of poverty that threatens to choke us all. A/N: sorry for how short it is, but I find it very difficult to write long chapters :S also, I do know it's a lot like The Hunger Games, and there's a reason for that. I'm trying to make it seem like the Capitol got their ideas from modern society. Please review if you liked it, and if you didn't, constructive criticism is always welcome! 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 23/10/12 2:00 pm A tanned, dark haired woman dressed in disgustingly outrageous fashions totters up to the stage with a huge grin plastered on her false, made up face. Each and every child in the country is positioned stiffly and nervously in Trafalgar Square, desperate not to get picked. I glance over at Alec, my twin, and give him a (hopefully) reassuring smile. I can tell he's by far more nervous than I am, and I'm sweating like there's no tomorrow. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch someone looking at me. My best friend Xavier. I can tell he's looking for confort, so I wade through the sea of people and reassure him. That's when I notice Flavalalya, the escort, is staring at me like I'm some kind of mutant. She's one to stare, I think to myself as I awkwardly make my way back to my place. "ladies first!" shrieks Flavalalya. She waves her hand over the reaping ball, seemingly trying to build up tension. What the silly woman doesn't realise is that she's just winding everybody up. She finally plucks a name out of the female ball, and takes her time opening it. "not me, not me, not me" I quietly whisper to myself. "ALYS JOSEFS!" she finally shouts out. An uncomfortable silence falls over the crowd. The tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife. I skim over the crowd, looking for the unfortunate who had the bad luck to get picked. I recoil back when I realise everybody is staring at me. Alys Josefs. Alys Josefs. I'm Alys Josefs. If I was acting on instinct, I would timidly shuffle up to the stage, head down and holding back tears. But this is the Games, survival of the fittest, and everybody who's weak is immeadiatly weeded out. I confidently stride up to the stage, trying to make it seem like I believe I can do well. Flavalalya starts talking, but I block it out. I don't want to hear it. The male tribute is called, but I'm still not listening. It could be my own brother, for all I know. All I can focus on is breathing, and not letting out the tears that threaten to spill over. A/N: can you do me an enormous favour and review? And also, please don't follow without reviewing :) let's try to get 5 reviews by tonight :) 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 23/10/12 Early morning, 1:00am I woke up in a cold sweat and sat bolt upright. I had a nightmare. Alec was reaped, and being different genders, I couldn't volunteer. Xavier wouldn't. Alec was thrown into the games. The chariot rides were awful. Alec and the girl came out completely naked, covered from head to toe in shimmery white paint, with words painted on them in garish neon shades of green, yellow and pink. Each country is supposed to dress up their tributes based on the nation's specific fane or trade. Like, England is famous for it's language. Every citizen in the Empire is required to speak it, regardless of whether it's their mother tongue or native language. Alec and Georgia were the laughing stock of the show. The interviews were even worse. Instead of answering the host's questions, Alec just burst into tears and started having a fully fledged paddy tantrum. Again, he was the laughing stock of the show. The games were by far the worst part of the nightmare, though. Alec was brought down first, by a monstrous girl from Spain. But I knew that it would be someone like that who took him down. Victors are almost always from the USA or Spain, and sometimes Australia. Any other country has to come up with an amazing tribute if they want a victor. In those 3 countries, winning the games is an honour and kids train for them the or whole lives. In the dream, Alec had died, so my subconscious mind expected it to end there. But it didn't. I watched my mind's full workings of the games, right through to the victor being crowned. As if to rub salt in a wound, the horrible Spanish monster won. In her interview, she was asked which kill was her favourite. She decided to describe the rush of pride she felt as she put a dagger through Alec's back. That was when I woke up. The girl wasn't real. Alec is safe. But I'm going to die in the games, and for all I know, I could die the very same way the girl described A/N: thank you to all the wonderful readers who regularly read my story. It means so much to me that I know at least few people like it. However, next to nobody is reviewing, and I won't know whether to write on if you don't review :S 


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